Discarded
by Swing-21
Summary: Not really love, not quite a relationship. But the breakup still hurts.


**Discarded**

_A Star Trek XI fanfic by Swing-21_

_Summary: Not love, not a relationship… But the breakup still hurts._

_Disclaimer: Star Trek is not mine, I am making no profit. At all. In any aspect of my life._

_Pairings: K/S, S/U_

_Rating: PG-13_

_Warnings: General mopiness. Inspired by real life events, that may or may not have happened earlier today. Unbeta-ed. This is not fic, it's therapy. It's a bucket of ice-cream, because the store is closed for the night and I can't get some._

* * *

They were friends. Closer than anyone else. And of course, they loved each other. Not the great love poets sang about, just a steady and honest loving friendship that was there to stay. There was trust, and companionship, and even a small deal of sexual undertones, but then, Jim Kirk had those with mostly everyone. All of his friendships had some sexual element in them, it was only natural that he also desired Spock. Spock knew and understood this, even if Nyota met all his needs.

Until Nyota put an end to their relationship. He'd shown up, a little bit lost and a some sadness visible in his too human eyes, if you knew him enough to look for it. Jim, like a good friend, opened him his door, his ears, and even his bed, to mend that broken heart who would never admit needing any of those things.

It was a nice thing they had, for a while. It didn't interfere with their command or their friendship. They just naturally fell in bed together, because the offer was always standing, and the trust already strong. Spock needed a distraction, Jim needed… It was never about what Jim needed, anyway, he was fully conscious of this. He just had to be grateful for what he got in exchange.

What if this, this not quite dating, not really love, was the closest thing he had to a relationship in too many years? What if Spock's body felt secure and familiar and great, and that being held in those powerful arms helped him fill that black hole in the middle of his chest? And that, for once, he felt wanted for something else than his looks and his hero status and even his brain? Spock knew who he really was inside and still wanted him, and that felt better than the thousand nightstands he'd had over his life.

It was the way they could simply talk after having sex. Those hours where they just laid, naked and still sweaty, joking and bantering, left him in greater spirits than the sex itself. It was a completely new thing, not to have to run from a partner's flat at 2 am just because sleeping next to a stranger felt way more intimate than fucking them.

And damn, but he thought they had something going there! Not a relationship, not really love, but something that maybe, one day, could get there, if both of them could get over their issues. There was friendship, and trust, and chess matches over tea, and discussions, and great sex, and it was coming along great, even though Spock sometimes went for days without coming to his quarters of even alluding to their unprofessional aspect of their relationship. And Jim waited.

Jim was patient. He understood the Vulcan was going through a difficult moment, so he didn't push. He never asked him to stay, he waited for Spock to do it himself. He never spoke against Uhura, even though he felt she was in the wrong and had no reason to hurt Spock like that. He just listened, when the Vulcan felt like sharing, and nodded. He never bothered the Vulcan with his own too human, emotional needs, because he knew it was one of the things that drove Spock nuts about his ex. Even if the Vulcan would have found other ways to not-say it.

When the words came, he hadn't expected them to hurt so much. He knew from the start that it was only a rebound relationship, that he was a distraction until something better came along. He was the friend-with-benefits, the easy thing after a complicated relationship. He never complained before, in fact he was the one to suggest it wouldn't be the right time for them to transform this into a relationship. He was right, it wouldn't be a good idea. He was still broken inside, unable to love like Spock should be loved, and Spock… Spock was still in love with Uhura. Which should have come as no surprise at all.

'I have met with Lieutenant Uhura today…'

He didn't really listen to the rest, just nodded at the right places. His smile may have seemed a bit too forced, because Spock frowned.

'I hope I am not causing you discomfort, Captain.'

'Nah, don't worry about me. It's great. You and Uhura. I'm glad.'

'You are not being completely sincere. Did you wish for something more between us, Jim?'

'…No. Not really. I know we're not… I'll just miss you, that's all.'

'I will not be gone.'

'Yeah, you will.'

He then left Spock's quarters to lock himself in his own. It shouldn't hurt like that, there wasn't any reason to feel that helpless and sad. It wasn't even a real relationship. It wasn't even love. But he still felt like crying, maybe a little bit. He took out the bourbon instead, and proceeded to drink away his troubles like a maudlin old man.

So… it was over. That not-really-something was over. He'd have to go back to those nameless one-night stands, then. Those that never really filled the void inside him.

And what if Jim needed more affection than sex, nowadays? What if he just lost the best bed partner he'd had in years? What if this abandon just added to the pain left by Carol, years ago, and his own mother, even further back? What if he felt used, discarded, insignificant, because even his best friend hadn't seen the interest in keeping him?

He'd just go back to bed strangers. Get invited into threesomes where he always ended up feeling like a third wheel. Steal hugs from Bones to assuage his touch-deprivation, even if the Doctor was not a touchy feely person. Flirt with the crew to feel that rush that came with being desired. Keep his eyes open for "the one", or the next best thing that came along.

He drank another sip. He'd get through this, and resume his duties, and even his friendship with Spock, tomorrow. It wasn't the end of the world. He was getting used to being second-best, after all.

* * *

Author's note: Yeah, sorry about that. Some people drink, I cry and write fanfics.


End file.
